Praise the LORD
by chanachan
Summary: Because Anu-Chan needs to learn how to write...


**Praise the LORD**

**Authoresses Note: There is a meaning behind this entire story. Putting aside the histrionic scenes, this fic focuses on a part of my faith, to which, at this extent, consists of nothing much. You need to use your brain to keep up with what is happening; but it's pretty much common sense. A complete AU: so sue my fat British ass. Flames will be enjoyed and constructive criticism will be beneficial. My writing is _really out of form, so give me the CCs ;__; Email them to me . NOW! But only if you're smart enough to o.O;_**

**Warning/s: Death, slight child abuse, OOCness, _possible implications of rape, acute confliction between 'good and evil'. Also, you may be affronted if you are a follower of god, as what I have written may clash with your beliefs. Buwahahaha fucking ha._**

*****

**"I wonder if Mariah fancies Rei!"**

**"Ewwww!**** That's _so gross, Tyson!"_**

"At least I know that I'll beat you if we battle!"

"You wanna bet? Ha ha!"

_"I'll see you tomorrow, Max!"_

*

_'What do you have, Max? What do you have left in this world?'_

            "I have enough…enough to endure…"

            _'You don't have even a shred of poise left. So how can your survive?'_

"I…I have memories…"

            _'And what are these reminiscences of? The time you beybladed with your friends? The time when you thought that you would have your first kiss? Or the time when you lost to destiny and ended up here?''_

Inaudibly murmuring the verse, Max tried to divest of the dispute within his mind. "To you I call, O LORD my Rock; do not turn a deaf ear to me."

            _'What memories do you have, Max?'_

"For if you remain silent, I shall be like those--"

            _'You don't have any, do you?'_

"--who have gone down to the pit…" 

            _'You have **nothing.'**_

A single tear drop slithered down his freckled cheek, like the unsolicited worm that many knew it to be. "I have…I have nothing…"

            _'Ha! And do you know **why**?'_   

            "Because…because she forgot I was only a child."

* * *

"I wonder if Mariah fancies Rei!"

            "Ewwww! That's _so gross, Tyson!"_

            The two younglings guffawed amongst each other at the thought-- which, to their candid judgment, was repellent-- of one of their good friends having a 'girlfriend'. But at the age of only ten, not much could have been expected from their infantile behaviour. "Yeah, I know! But don't tell Rei, or he isn't gonna beyblade with me then."

            "At least I know that I'll beat you if we battle!"

            "You wanna bet? Ha ha!" 

            Progressively, the two made their way down the street; not caring that time was flying by quite swiftly. In between their conversations about school and beyblading, they had an irritating itch to take their friendship to a certain limit in which they would have confronted the other with their family problems. But they left it as that. The moment was too precious to spoil; besides, another day was _sure_ to come. 

            After Tyson threw his 'goodbye's and 'I'll see you tomorrow, Max's at his friend, he trotted along, now picking up more speed than before as it was the only thing left to do. Max watched his friend saunter off into the distance before he made his way into his home. 

            It was not much of a place that he had lived in. It was one apartment from two-hundred, his being the one three quarters above the ground. It was not much of a pretty site, and it was certainly not a place fit for a child too, but he managed. Max had to. He could not complain to his parents, for he could not place a burden upon them, well, to his mother he could not—his father was not much of his concern at most times. His mother had already tried her best, and her best was what he was satisfied with.

Max's mother was always active, wondering through the streets of Japan, looking for work, hoping that every time someone would have taken her in was not because of the fact that she was vulnerable enough to be used and abused. And she was. But it was not much of a choice for her-- to make sure that her family would not have been evicted, she needed to make sure that she worked as hard as she could.

            His father was not much of a help. His daily routine involved the consumption of a large amount of liquor, next to making sure that he was fed at least three times a day. By whom, he did not care. Just as long as his greed was fulfilled for the day, it was all that he ever cared about.

           All that mattered was that the mother and the son were safe, which they were, though for only a limited amount of time.

            He ran up the stairs, too energized to use the elevator.  Turning the wooden knob, not caring that it was more chipped than the previous week, Max crept into his own home, just then realising that he was late. He needed to make dinner, which would have normally been served early in their household. But, much to his luck, his father had been knocked out on the sofa, making him think that he was able to get away with it, without a single mark upon his slender body.

            After making the dinner, which was but instant pizza, Max put it into the microwave again, to make sure that it did not go cold, and slowly went into his room to sleep. There, he hoped to dream sweet dreams.

* * *

"Why don't you leave me alone?"

            _'Because, I need to make sure that you make the right choice.'_

Max chortled, quite sarcastically, however. He was not to give in that easily. "Do you take me to be _that much of an idiot? I'm not going __anywhere. I'm staying here…where I belong. And, in the end, it'll turn out good for me."_

            _'How long have you been here?' _He raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the question. _'How long have you been here?' The blonde boy did not reply. He did not want to, for he had a theory of where this was to lead. _'I guess it's probably a long time, eh? And where has that led you? You're still stuck in this empty room, waiting and reading and waiting and reading, like the fool that you are..'__

"God takes his time. I can wait long enough for him to come."

            _'You fool!' _the voice hissed, sending a sharp snap down Max's spine. _'Can't you see? No one is coming for you! God doesn't reward all of his sheep.'_

"I _know _he will come! I just know it!"

            _'We will see. We will see…'_

* * *

Slowly waking from his far from deep slumber, Max noticed the usual: his parents were arguing about domestic situations, spitting out harsh profanity whenever it was possible to. He was used to it, and maybe that was why he refused to pull himself up to witness more of the quarrel. Every now and then, his father would have slapped Max's mother, and it did hurt him. An anchor would have weighed down his heart, his eyes would have begun to water and his stomach would have twisted itself into a knot. But he did not have to care. He wanted to sleep.

            He told himself that he would have woken up the next morning to comfort his mother.

* * *

But Max was wrong. He did not wake up the following morning. In fact, after shutting himself down for another half an hour, or so, he was woken up again. This time, it was not to the bellowing and livid words of his parents, but to a soothing melody, being hummed from beside him. He slowly pushed himself up and leaned himself against the wall that was behind his bed, and after rubbing his eyes, he realised that his mother was sitting by him.

            "Mom…?" He was ignored. She continued to hum, looking straight ahead, having locked her focus upon a certain spot on the wall. Even though it was dark, Max was still able to see the outline of a tear, slithering down her cheek. "Mom? Why aren't you asleep?"

            A minute or two passed before she replied to his answer. "I'm…not sleepy." She gradually turned her son and smiled at him. Max had gotten used to the dark, so was able to make out her facial expressions. "Do you know what Dad said to me about us?" 

            "Mom. Go to sleep…can we talk about it tomorrow morning?"

            "He said that he doesn't love us. He never has and never will." 

            "Mom…please?"

            "He used us because he needed a place to stay…he doesn't love us. He hates us." She turned to look at the wall again, no longer drying her eyes out. "He hates us, Max…he hates us…"

            Biting his lower lip, Max slid down until his back was rested upon the bed again. He wanted to fall into a never-ending slumber; he knew that his mother was far from sober and that all she needed was to sleep it off, so ignoring her would have been the only solution that he had thought of at that moment. "Goodnight, Mom," he finally whispered, allowing his eyelids to weigh themselves.

            "Max?" 

            He sighed to himself; "yeah?"

            "Do you trust me, Max?"

            "Of course I trust you…"

            "Would you trust me with your life?"

            "Yeah…I guess."

            She arched an eyebrow. "You 'guess'?"

            Max turned to lie on his side, so that he could look at his mother, who still did not move her focus away from the wall. "Well, you're my mother, I have to trust you. But if we were friends, then I would have trusted you anyway."

            "I-I'm sorry, Max." 

            "For what, Mom?"

            "Will you forgive me? Please forgive me, Max. I don't mean to do the things that I do…"

            He smiled to himself. "I know, Mom. I forgive you." 

            She slowly got up and sat at the side of his bed. "Don't struggle, Max. Trust me…I'll help us get out of this. You _do trust me, right?"_

            Frowning, Max nodded. "Yeah…I trust you, Mom."

            "You'll do anything for me, right?"

            "Yes…" hesitated Max.

            "Then don't struggle, darling." She slowly pulled his pillow from under his head and picked away any strands of hair that may have been on it. 

            _Mom…please don't…_

Placing it tightly on Max's face, she whispered to him. "Don't struggle, Max."

            _I won't…_

And Max did not struggle.

            "Trust me, Max…"

            _I do..._

And Max trusted her.

            "I'm doing this for the best…please understand."

            _I understand, Mom…_

And Max understood. He understood well enough to know that she was doing it all for the best. But the day that his own mother would have killed him was a day that he would have never expected. And, now, he laid there, with his mother playing with his hair, who did not care that she still had a pillow over his face.

"That's a good boy, Max. One day, when you grow up, you'll make me proud…just wait until mummy finds a good job and then we'll go somewhere nice, just the two of us. How about France? France…yeah…you've always wanted to go there, didn't you, Max?" She sighed and placed a lock of her golden-blonde hair behind her ear. "Don't worry, Max. Mom will protect you from now on. Trust me." A smile slowly plastered itself to her oval face; "goodnight, darling…don't let the bedbugs bite." 

            Leaning in, she kissed her son on the forehead and placed the pillow, gently, by his side. She stood up, made her way into the living room, and flicked through channels until she could find something decent to watch. 

* * *

"Let me go…I want to sleep in peace."

            _'But you won't be slumbering in the **right **place, Max.'_

Biting his lower lip, Max gave a long hiatus before he spoke; "But if I come with you, I'll never sleep…"

            _'Yes, you will..'_

"I will? I know your game. My faith in god has shown me the door to the end of my voyage."

            The voice within his mind chortled menacingly. _'And you think that you'll get rid of me without effort?'_

"I have done what is righteous and just; do not leave me to my oppressors."

            _'You're a fake! You're only crawling to your **filthy **'LORD' now because you have no one else to turn to!'_

"Ensure your servant's well-being; let not the arrogant oppress me. And…and…" It ended with a slight whisper. Max slowly raised his head, wondering why nothing had happened. "Wh…what's wrong?"

            _'…it seems as if your 'LORD' left you, child.'_

"My eyes fail, looking for your salvation!" Gathering all of his energy to read the verses from _his _psalm, he began to stumble. Nothing was happening. No one came for him.

            No one.

            _'Where is your god now, Max? Where is **he**?'_

"…looking for your righteous promise!" Still nothing. With his mouth left open and his fingers at the edge of destruction, Max's only words that _might _have helped him survive were taken away, making him drop the text, which was within his hands, letting it fall to the groupd. "No…no…"

            _'You cannot depend upon him, Max. You only have me to turn to now.'_

He looked down at the brown text that was now laid by his feet. As he ran his slender fingers through his dirty-blonde hair, more tears of the devil began to flow, wiping away every inch of the decorum that was left within him. "Why didn't he come? Why didn't my father come?!"

            _'He doesn't love you! No one does, Max!' _

"No…why is this happening to _me? I haven't done _anything _to deserve this!"_

            _'Why? Why...? Because you're stained.'_

"How could have I lost my faith?! I can't see how it happened."

_'How can you have lost your faith if you did not have it in the first place? Then why would he come for **you? You're simply using him. What kind of faith is that?' Max fell onto his knees, his hands wrapped around the back of his head. He wanted to scream. He wanted to let out every inch of the nails within his bottled up thoughts with the power of a single noise. _'Now, how many years have you been stuck here? How long have you been a victim in this emptiness of nothing?'_**_

Slowly blinking, Max finally replied; "I…lost count after twelve…"

_'Shame.__ I have never pitied anyone up until now.'_

He flinched as the words soured his already soured wounds. "Go away," Max spat with much odium. "Just go away!" 

_'Why?'_

"Because you are _annoying_ me. You don't belong here! Leave me _alone_!"

_'Fine.__ I'll leave you alone…just like you were destined to be.'_

And the devil left. It was as simple as that. Though Max did not have time to repent, he was conscious of the fact that he had lost his possible chance to leave the room. Curling himself into a susceptible ball, Max rocked himself back-to-forth. He was having his 'never-ending slumber'. All he wanted now was to wake up and hope that his mother would be there to make him breakfast. Scrambled eggs; that was his favourite.

* * *

**Psalm 28**

_Of David.___

To you I call, O LORD my Rock;

            do not turn a deaf ear to me.

For if you remain silent,

            I shall be like those who have gone down to the pit.

Hear my cry for mercy

            as I call to you for help,

as I lift up my hands

            towards your Most Holy Place.

**Ayin**

I have done what is righteous and just;

            do not leave me to my oppressors

Ensure your servant's well-being;

            let not the arrogant oppress me.

My eyes fail, looking for your salvation,

            looking for your righteous promise.

Deal with your servant according to your love

            and teach me your decrees.

I am your servant; give me discernment

            that I may understand your statues.

_I am no one's servant. I serve only myself._


End file.
